


Bear-ly Even Friends (Then Somebody Bends)

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen Hates Puns, Developing Friendships, Extra Treat, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 21:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17774438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: Cullen wants a dog. What he gets... ain't a dog.





	Bear-ly Even Friends (Then Somebody Bends)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacehopper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/gifts).



Cullen's first choice would be a mabari. Ideally, a well-trained one in the prime of its life. A young pup he could train or an older dog looking to retire from active service but still whip-smart and obedient would be more than acceptable. Any other dog, of course, would be welcome, even (though he might not loudly declare it) one of the little ones with the gargoyle ears that the Orlesians kept to warm their laps. He truly misses having a dog for company.

Then his choice would be a cat, to keep the office free from vermin and maybe submit to a few moments of affection once in a while.

A sturdy mount, a Fereldan forder, or a courser, even one of the Free March ranger-types would be suitable for him as a full-time companion. The Inquisitor's harts are ostentatious, but sure-footed and calm. He wouldn't say no if Inquisitor Cadash wanted to gift him one.

After that, Cullen would rather be alone. He turned down Josephine's offer an assistant, and he certainly feels too uncomfortable about Leliana's crows to want one of them anywhere near him. He knows there's some rabbits in the keep, and chickens, but he's never been one to make friends with the animals he may need to eat one day.

He'd mentioned to Cadash once that a dog would be a welcome addition, and then after his confrontation with Cassandra, she must have thought he needed something to keep him company and divert some of his attention when he got to wrapped up in the stress. So Cadash brought him a… companion.

Storvacker is not a dog, nor is she a cat, a mount or anything else Cullen imagined. She's a bloody bear.

"I didn't grow up on a farm like you, Commander," Cadash says, somehow straight faced through it all. "A pet's a pet, right? She's basically a big dog. _You're welcome._ "

Storvacker either she implicitly understands she's a rather large bear or she thinks she's his personal valet, because she follows him everywhere, regardless of whether he needs company or not. No one says anything to her, because who's going to talk back to a bear (or a valet)?

Cullen is accompanying a small group of his people plus two of Leliana's into the depths of the Orlesian vallies to put on a showy patrol for some minor lord with private militia that liked to tangle with the Inquisition for fun. He refuted the existence of such a militia and given Josephine such a headache that Leliana suggested a gently written rebuke delivered by fifty men, or a knife through the ribs. Now that they're out here, he should have voted ribs. And he definitely should have found a way to leave the bear at Skyhold.

It's really not going well. It's been pouring rain since they reached the foothills and spirits are low. The lord they're meant to be demonstrating for probably can't even see them marching back and forth in front of his estate through the sheets of water.

Everyone is miserable and longing for dry socks except Storvacker, who's very taken with the mud and kicks up cascades of it as she walks. She sticks close by Cullen's side, despite his exasperation and the flecks of mud clinging to his collar. The rain doesn't quite wash it away, just deeper into the fur.

"Can we go, Commander?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Teacup, round up the troops. We're done here."

No sooner did the formation about face when the lord's private militia came charging from the side, weapons drawn. Cullen shouted for his people to ready themselves for a fight when Storvacker stands on her hind legs between the two opposing group and roars.

It's loud enough to shake the trees. It startles a few men from both parties to the ground. Even Cullen takes a step back. Even the rain seems to stop falling while the world takes a second to reconsider its action.

The militiamen scramble backs towards the estate with no deaths, no weapons bloodied, barely even a curse uttered. The lord might have missed men marching, but he won't miss the nine foot tall bear bellowing down his door.

Satisfied, Storvacker drops back down her feet and pads carefully over to Cullen. She leans her massive head against him, snuffling around his hands as if Cullen's carrying food for her. This is puzzling because he's never fed her with his hands; he likes to think he's brighter than that.

When Storvacker rumbles in her chest and leans on him with her head and shoulders, nearly flattening him into the mud, he realizes she's looking for affection.

"Oh, all right, yes, you did well today," he tells her, rubbing the back of her neck. It's like a petting a very large, very sodden dog. She tilts her face up towards him and raises her lips. It's not a snarl, it's more like --

"Aww, she's smiling!" Lieutenant Teacup exclaims. "You've got a beary good friend in her I'd say, Commander."

"Evidently," Cullen says, eyes narrowing at his lieutenant. Cullen's said more than once that puns were not tolerated in his presence. He truly loathed them.

"Just grin and bear it, sir." There's snickering from some of the other soldiers. Teacup is looking at him like a cat with a canary. Or a bear with a honeycomb.

"Teacup --"

"I don't think it'll be so grizzly, will it? She seems like good help in a pinch."

" _Teacup!_ "

"My apologies, sir, no need to go bear-zerk."

Cullen grits his teeth and pats Storvacker again. She leans a little harder on him, rainwater rolling off her giant head onto his boots. "There will be a list of words that are off limits by tomorrow morning," Cullen warns. "If these jokes go on and on, I will think of something unbearable for all of you. Oh damn."

He catches himself a second too late and the laughter starts again in earnest. Cullen fumes outwardly, but inwardly he doesn't hate the higher spirits they're returning with.

Just as they set out for Skyhold, Storvacker shakes her whole body, from nose to toes. The fur seems to move independent of the rest of her, and continues shaking long after the rest has stopped. Any remaining speck of dryness is gone in that instant. It seems in a way, Cadash wasn't entirely wrong in her 'like a dog' assessment.

Still, he's going to smell like wet bear for a month.

**Author's Note:**

> One of my favourite things about Chocobox is the low bear-ier to entry. This idea's been bruin for a bit, but it gave me paws; I wasn't sure I was koala-fied to bear it into existence. But here it is, posted for pawsterity. I can bear-ly wait for your assessment. Is it going to be pawsitive, or should this fic be bear-ied in the mud?
> 
> ... I'll see myself out.


End file.
